The ten minutes that changed your life.

To Be or Not to Be!
The ten minutes that changed your life.

Just yesterday I was talking to Jeff Pulver about his thoughts on chance, providence, and good old luck. I was thinking that each of us must have experienced an episode that changed our life, shaped our career, secured our financial well-being or brought about fame. Some of us have had several, but if I asked you to recount the most critical ten minute segment in your CAREER, what would it be? And how did luck/coincidence/providence/hard work figure in? Here is mine, an excerpt from my new book (coming out in a few weeks) entitled "Save Your Breath".

"…In frustration, I petitioned Tel Aviv University to let me manufacture samples of the two-phase mouthwash by myself (this would have been a disaster, as I still have no manufacturing expertise). At the last moment, fate took the form of a telephone call. Chaim Regev, head of marketing at Israel's largest manufacturer of toothpastes and other household products (Shemen-Soad Ltd.), had heard about the mouthwash formula from a newspaper article. He told me that they had thousands of empty mouthwash bottles lying around, and had been thinking of throwing them out. Could I fill them, he wanted to know. I explained the advantages of the two-phase product, and mentioned the issue of having to shake it before use. Chaim Regev turned the disadvantage into an advantage. "We'll emphasize the need for shaking. We'll color each phase in bold hues. People with bad breath won't mind shaking a container if they believe the results will be positive."

The product turned into a hit in Israel, then was followed by a British version that became Dentyl pH, the second bestselling mouthwash in the UK.

To be or not to be an inventor?

Inventors, inventing, inventions...

I don't remember inventing things as a kid. Actually I am quite clumsy at technological things and have trouble working practically anything. When I was in high school, I developed a knack for taking pianos apart, but was unable to put them back together. Our piano in Ottawa required an urgent visit from the piano tuner, who scolded me for opening it up in the first place. The subsequent summer I took apart the piano at summer camp in Hunter, New York (not far from Woodstock, but a summer too early). I survived camp, but the piano did not. The keys and other wooden parts were offered up in a subsequent camp bonfire.

So I am not your geek inventor. I come up with an idea, and if it is very simple, I can do it. If not, I need help from the real innovative people, such as my friend Hagai Cohen.

The first invention that I remember was the debris blower, an idea I came up with while cleaning the crap under lemon trees. Getting under a lemon tree is a difficult thorny process, and I suggested to the citrus grove person-in-charge, Kobi (it was on the kibbutz) to attach an irrigation pipe to the wrong end of a vacuum cleaner. I remember the prototype that Kobi built, I understand it served the kibbutz well for several years. I have no idea whether the present day blowers are progeny or not.

During the 1970s I had the idea of flat drums and tried to interest my friend Sammy, the owner of Isramusic, to invest and build a few. He demurred, but to this day insists that I invented flat drums. Go know.

During that same period I had an empty book which I filled with my early inventions – a sock attacher that kept pairs from separating during the washing, and a writing utensil for people unable to grasp a pen.

When I joined the Dental School in 1982 I began inventing things with my friend Dr. Ervin Weiss. This collaboration gave birth to the QuadLoop, and early versions of the two-phase mouthwash. I haven't stopped since.

What does it take to be an inventor? I think you have to be a dreamer, to think laterally. You have to hate routine, be lazy about doing menial chores, and motivated into finding easier ways of doing them.

Most inventions (perhaps 99%) never make it to the marketplace, and among those that do, many fail commercially. Most inventors end up losing money in their eagerness to see their innovation become a reality. The odds are against us. Nevertheless, if you look at the invention process as fun, and limit yourself to only small investments (the size of any other hobby, such as skiing), then you can't lose. If your invention hits the shelves, you may make some serious money, and if not, you've spent a few bucks having a rip roaring time trying.

London Magic - November 2008 Theater, music, meetings and more...

Blog from London Town

Although the news on the television is grim concerning the UK fiscal situation, you'd never know it on Oxford Street here in London. Streets are packed with November shoppers, even though there are no good sales on (I wonder how many of the shoppers are Europeans coming over to take advantage of the low pound). And even though the weather here has been inclement, the pre-Christmas shopping has not abated.

The weather has not prevented us from wandering around on foot, as we are wont to do when we are here in town. On Saturday we walked downtown through Mayfair. On the road, Shuli, my wife spotted a glove on the street among the autumn leaves (We saw another pair yesterday; apparently it is a regular occurrence). We spent a penny and a few pounds at Fortnum and Mason near Picadilly, where we had some of the bwst truffles money can buy, and bought a couple of fancy bar chocolates (more on those when I give them a try). Then, we bought half-price tickets for Avenue Q. I don’t know what the reviews have been like, but I really enjoyed the play. The idea of having muppet-like characters grow up into dysfunctional, jobless, thirty-something creatures is wonderful, and the musical numbers are cute as well. The best part perhaps is seeing the actors on stage with their puppets, making the same facial expressions and shtick. It often seems as if the puppets are real and the actors are mimicking them. Well worth seeing.

The previous night we saw Billy Elliot, a riveting play about miners, class struggle, and artistic aspirations of a young boy growing up in Newcastle. We went to see the play with my great friend Peter Jackets and his family. Even they had some trouble dissecting the Newcastle accent (we had more, hoi!). Nevertheless, it was a powerful play.

Sunday was a 274 bus ride to Camden town, a brief walk among the stalls (including a bagel stand, but I hesitated to try their wares), and then a long walk back towards town along the Regent Canal, one of London's best kept secrets. The trees are changing color, the fallen leaves float slowly down the canal, what can I tell you?

Last night was a wonderful reunion with my baby brother David (now 48, mind you) who over the course of a meteoric career has become one of the top ranked economists in North America. He is a very busy guy, and I see him only once every two years or so, so when it turned out we would be in London at the same time, it was cause for celebration. We celebrated my birthday by dining at Sheekey, a really nice fish restaurant in the theatre district. If you like fresh fish, go for the wild halibut, it was supreme (the mushy peas were awesome as well). Dave and I topped up the evening with a duet of a classic Hebrew love song of yearning and lament (below).

On Wednesday evening we had a reunion with David Arch, who heads up Blistex, the famous lip care company that has bought our two-phase mouthwash. You can still find it in every nook and cranny of Saturday,

On Nov. 14th I saw Leonard Cohen again. He looked very good and fit, considering it's been twenty-four years since we last spoke. The last time we met I told him that I wanted to be a musician. He told me that he wanted to be a scientist. A very lovely and unassuming man.

On Nov. 14th I saw Leonard Cohen again. This time, with some 15,000 other raving fans at the Arena stadium near Greenwich (it might technically be London, but it was still a 45 minute taxi ride back to Marble Arch). Three generations of enraptured Leonard-lovers.

What can I tell you? He blew us away with his lyrics, his music, an impeccable band of singers and musicians who played everything from harps and hammonds to steel guitars and mandolins. The horn player who was remarkable, tried his hand at everything: clarinet, bass clarinet, tenor sax (wonderful), ewi (electronic wind instrument) and harmonica (have I forgotten anything?).

On Nov. 14thI saw Leonard Cohen again. The man is a legend, a prophet. His songs are his liturgy, we pray along with him. Who by fire? Who by water? He closes his eyes; we are in his inner world, as he fastens our ankle to his stone.
Leonard sang almost all of 'our' songs and some of his splendid newer ones. He didn't forget to do "The Famous Blue Raincoat" (one of the many encores).

On Nov. 14th I saw Leonard Cohen again. Will we ever meet again? I'm glad that I met you, I'll never forget you, I'm glad that you lighted our way.

Rock on, Leonard Cohen.

Why I love the UK

Bad breath has been good to me. I write these words in the lobby of the Thistle Marble Arch, near Oxford Street right next to Marble Arch and Hyde Park. I'm on my way home in a few minutes, after five days dedicated to the two-phase mouthwash which I invented and help develop, first in Israel, then in the UK. As I write, the invention (Dentyl pH) has become a hit here. One out of every five (!) mouthwash bottles sold in the UK is Dentyl pH.

I walk into drug stores all along Oxford Street, and stand beside my mouthwash bottles, admiring them as if they were some kind of progeny. No matter that I don't own the patent (the university does). No matter that the millions of people using it have no idea who invented it. The important thing is that they are improving their oral hygiene, self esteem, and social lives, rinsing and gargling with a product that I nutured for so many years, in the face of criticism and nay sayers.

The mouthwash story is one of pure luck, happenstance and chance. Louis Pasteur, one of my scientific heroes of all time, said that "Chance favors the prepared mind". If that's the case, then the only credit I can take is cherishing the unexpected. Most of the turning points in the development of this product were born out of accidents and flukey experimental results. Only very few inventions succeed in becoming products, and among those few products, most fail commercially. So the success of the mouthwash is rare indeed. And as someone with quite a few patents, and less-than-successful products, I know just how lucky I am.

I'm attaching a picture I took this afternoon of the 'baby' at a Boots store on Oxford Street.

The UK success has made me even more of an Anglophile. I love London, the Queen, the royal family (I've heard that the Queen may have a breath problem, I'd love to help her out, why doesn't she just ask me?). After all, I grew up as a British commonwealth subject in Ottawa, I collected coins displaying the Queen and her predecessors. I sang the British anthem at movies and football games. Actually as a child, I got the words wrong, thinking that the second part went:

"Send her Victoria, Happy and Gloria…"

I thought that these were the Queen's children, missing during the Second World War.

I've had a good trip, meeting reporters, explaining how the mouthwash works (at least how I think it works). This included a fancy Japanese lunch overlooking the Thames, and tea at Claridge's (including, inter alia, lavender flavored chocolate sweets, in honour of the Chelsea flower show). And an overnight train trip to Harrogate, an enchanting spa resort in Northern England.

Most important of course, as always, is meeting up with the friends I've made here over the past decade. A lovely island.